Mariana Garzon, of El Carmen Ecuador, died 19 April 2021 of COVID.

At times, the deaths of the past year seem overwhelming. Even as COVID deaths begin to decrease, we are left to contemplate the losses the pandemic has wrought. Not only has the virus taken the lives of tens of thousands, (almost 600,000, nearly 3.5 million worldwide) but so many have been unable to travel to be with family or loved ones who died by other causes, or to attend or even hold services.

My dear GNUUC family, this is trauma. Those of us who’ve experienced trauma in our lives know the feeling: beyond grief, it’s a kind of despair and shock combined that takes a lifetime to manage. The good news is that it can be held in a safe and trusted community. The good news is that you are part of such a community.

Although no one in my family even contracted COVID, I had friends and acquaintances who did, and some who died. One that struck me was a friend from my many trips to Ecuador, the mother of a doctor here with whom we’d planned our medical mission trips. She was perhaps seventy. But two of her children were physicians, one nearby, the other here in the US. Her American family couldn’t get to her. She died without seeing them. It is so hard for me to fathom her family’s distress and grief.

Sunday after this one (Memorial Day weekend) we will take a slightly different approach to Memorial Day, and I am asking you to help with the service by telling a brief story about someone you know (or don’t know, but whose death affected you) who died this past year. Please let me know by next Wednesday the 26th if you’d like to share. When we see how many speakers there are, I will give you a time limit. You may record your part or share it live during the service.

Eric, Marjorie, and I with Mariana and her son William about 2005. Santo Domingo, Ecuador.

I will tell you a short, funny story about one of my visits with Mariana and her family, that has to do with horrifying Ecuadorian drivers, my terrible Spanglish, and horseback “lessons.” Let us keep those who have passed on alive in our hearts by sharing stories.

With Love,

Cynthia

Whatever it is, the way you tell your story online can make all the difference.

This week, we will honor our graduating Seniors, Xander and Zoe. Each of them will have time to say a few words about their plans and you will have the opportunity to donate to the traditional Cash Jar Fund for our senior grads. I hope you will make time to attend and show these two amazing young people how much we love them and support their next steps.

We will continue with the theme of story. What’s your story about the time you graduated high school? Did your plans change? Looking back, how do you feel about your story? Are there things that you’d change? Regrets? Things you’d still like to accomplish, or experience?

I will be sharing some stories and ideas with you from a teacher and author who was a member of my UU congregation in KY at one time. She was raised in the Netherlands, but is Afro-Surinamese by heritage, and has lived and studied in the US. Her new book, Holding Space, is about how we tell and how we hear one another’s stories.

I think you will enjoy “meeting” her! She has been a true light on my journey. Here’s a story.

Aminata, a single mother of three sons, had been attending the Lexington church for a while with her two younger sons, Essien and Nasim, when Seth came to live with us. We weren’t prepared for the first Christmas when he suddenly joined us a few days before, but she dropped off a big trash bag of wrapped toys that had been given to Nasim through community donations. “He doesn’t need all that,” she said. There was a bounty of toys. Such generosity from someone who had so little.

Her sons have grown up to be very successful. Nasim was just offered a full scholarship to the Air Force Academy. She is a Professor and lives in the Hague, visiting the US regularly. As soon as her book is in print, I plan to buy several copies.

Another story: several times, she took part in or led a service at our UU Congregation. She is also a dancer, and shared some of her knowledge of indigenous dance with us. While she was at our congregation, we also had an exchange student from Germany living at our home; her name was Anke. Aminata offered some African dance classes at the YMCA, and Marjorie, Anke, and I all attended. We had so much fun, and it was a small miracle to see Anke, who had known few people of color, learn from a woman of the African diaspora. I cherish the opportunities I have had to make friends and share stories across time and space.

Hope to see you Sunday!

Love, Cynthia

This is some artwork by a young lady in the UK with chronic illness. Migraines are so hard to describe, but sometimes a visual like this does it.

Dear Friends,

I have been on leave this month of April, and one of my goals was to work on getting to the bottom of why my chronic illness (migraines) have become so much worse in the past few years. Although I am otherwise healthy, and even though I hate complaining, because it doesn’t help, I want to let you know where things stand.

The persistence of the headaches along with family demands are a big part of the reason I am retiring now. My hope is to finally discover not just the triggers but some of the root causes of the migraines so I can move from taking medication to a more prevention-based approach. In April, I had a major revelation when I went for allergy testing and discovered that I am allergic to almost everything around me. It’s going to require a regimen of injections and months to years to see if indeed this is a big contributor to my ongoing illness. Meanwhile, I have been even more sick than I usually am at this time of year. I sincerely apologize for any lapses this has caused or cause in the next few months of my service to you.

I am back “on duty” now and will be with you on May 9, 16, and 31st. I will also be leading the service on June 20th. I had hoped to make a few trips to Nashville in May, but I can’t travel just yet. However, if you’d like to have a farewell chat or meeting with me via Zoom or just get on a list for when I do visit, please send an e-mail and we will set something up!

In the meantime, I will continue to work with the leadership to do what I can to help ensure a smooth and successful transition to your next ministry! You are a fantastic congregation and you deserve the best!

This Sunday is “Mother’s Day,” and many folks struggle with that day for lots of reasons. I usually try to approach the topic in a novel and unsentimental way. The title this Sunday is “A Mother of a Year” and I hope to share some thoughts about how the womb-like time of the pandemic has been nurturing as well as isolating. Let me know if you have stories along those lines! As ever, I am deeply grateful to the Worship team and all the GNUUC leadership who have kept the congregation going without me, showing once again how resourceful and resilient you are.

Here’s an article about the ambivalence of Mother’s Day: CLICK HERE

With Love,

Cynthia

As we approach the one-year anniversary of our first “pandemic” Sunday, I am sharply aware of how much has changed.

The seasons have all turned. The Still Spring garden at GNUUC has blossomed, wintered, and been tended and enjoyed. Our community has also weathered the year, making adjustments to separation, loneliness, and so many unfamiliar and sometimes overwhelming ways of doing things.

We were dragged kicking and screaming, or perhaps just whimpering, into the 21st century. We zoomed, we socially-distanced for holidays, we had cocktail hour online, we finally saw Hamilton. Many of us learned new skills and enriched our knowledge of the world, once we accepted that we’d have to “travel” digitally. The air became cleaner. The White House became more dignified. We prayed, sang, and held our breath through several elections and… guess what? We are still here.

A few dear ones left us, and for that we are deeply sorrowful.

When I made arrangements to come to Nashville part-time to work with GNUUC, I told the committee that I would stay as long as I was able depending upon my health and my family. And by family, I mean primarily my 16-year-old son Seth, who, because he is on the Autism spectrum, struggles daily. The pandemic has not been easy for any school kids, but for kids with disabilities, it has been excruciatingly hard. Seth begged me not to ever leave him again after I returned from serving in NJ for 2 years. We all thought the Nashville arrangement would be fine, because he was older, would be busy with band on weekends, and because it was closer and I’d be home for a few days each week. And it was fine, until COVID happened. He is failing classes, fighting anxiety attacks, and generally unhappy. (And that is with both of us here at the house.) ASD people need predictable schedules and lots of support.

My heart has been torn, because I love each one of you so much, and wish I could stay on a bit longer. At the same time, I can not say that I am the person to give you the best ministry with these other demands. I look forward to seeing many of you after I’ve had my second immunization in April, and to staying connected to hear all the great things I know you have in store!

Love, Cynthia

In High School, we read Julius Cesar, and I had one line: “Beware the Ides of March.”

I was the soothsayer. I had to put all my acting skills into those five words.

Had someone told us, one year ago, that we’d be virtually imprisoned in our homes, separated from our loved ones, fearful of an invisible virus, having to take extreme measures to go out in public, and witnessing the deaths of hundreds of thousands of Americans, the sickening of millions, the unemployment and displacement and despair that come with such an epidemic, all while going through a brutal and barbaric political campaign and election cycle, we couldn’t have imagined it, but my guess is that most of us would have imagined it with sheer horror.

I don’t mean to imply that the pandemic has been easy in any way — far from it — there have been many losses and tragedies for us all, but we have survived. I believe our connections and our commitments have grown stronger and more caring, even as most of us have only seen one another on screens.

The last time I spoke at GNUUC was March 15th, 2020. When I left that day, I left all of my sermon notes, my books, my files, and a good deal of my clothes in Nashville. I could have come back for a day or two, but I haven’t. The thought of being there and not seeing you was too depressing, and I’ve been vigilant about staying well until I could get immunized. I got my first injection yesterday, as Kentucky opened the 1C category! My second will be April 1st. I know that doesn’t mean we will all be back to normal, but it feels like the beginning of the end, or the end of the beginning, and I look forward to seeing you again.

I’ve started a conversation with the Board and leadership about moving in the direction of retirement later this year. It’s been a very difficult decision for me, mainly because I love GNUUC so much. But my health and family really leave no options. The Board and I will keep you well informed as our discussions progress.

This year, the Ides of March will be on a Monday. We will be in the second day of Daylight Saving Time, my very favorite time. Here in central KY, it’s light until almost 10PM in June.

This year, I don’t want to be the soothsayer! I hope we don’t have to beware the ides of March, or April, or May. We all deserve a break.

With Love,

Cynthia

My daughter and a church member on the roof of a house we built in Biloxi after Katrina. He died much too young a few years later. Yesterday our congregation had its first death (not from covid) since the pandemic began. Life is #holy #uulent2021

By now, you will have heard that Tom Christenbery, husband of David Frese, member of GNUUC since its beginning, died suddenly on Tuesday morning. We hold David in our love and care, and will share news of ways we can help, and of services if they are planned.

David and I were just texting on Monday, and sharing some fun and delightful memories of childhood, snow, food, pets, traditions. From our exchange, I know that he and Tom had a beautiful last day together.

David also encouraged me to share some ideas as I had done during Advent. I’d already been considering doing this, so I got busy looking for a way to celebrate the 40 days of Lent for UUs.

Although we do not observe Lent as a sacrament, and the majority of UUs are not Trinitarian even if Christian, it touches upon practices that pre-date Christianity and that occur in many spiritual paths. Self-discipline and self-awareness are especially significant this year. Most of us have been forced to give up some things, and to forego pleasures: dining out; travel; visits with extended family; even simple things like browsing the aisles at the supermarket. Could I really be asking you to “give up” something else for Lent?

Yes and no.

You don’t have to practice self-denial unless you think it would be helpful. Simply using these forty days to increase your proximity to God, the Holy, to your own Wisdom is more than enough.

I will be sending you a missive each day based upon a word assigned by some UU folks who enjoy Lent. It will include a photo and a few brief thoughts.

As ever, feel free to ignore them if they aren’t your thing, or let us know if you’d rather not receive them!

This is today's word: “Holy”. The rest will come by e-mail.

Over twenty years ago, I took the Buddhist vows. They are simple, yet meaningful enough that one can work on them for a lifetime and not completely understand them. What I remember about that morning is that I was on retreat with my teachers, Caitriona and Michele, at Manzanita Village in San Diego County. It was about a two-hour drive from my home in Riverside. I learned about them from some friends I had started practicing meditation with, Charlie and Richard. We met weekly at their home for sitting practice. I met Charlie when she and I were in a group of homeschool parents.

Taking the vows is called “taking refuge.” One takes refuge in the Buddha, the Dharma, and the sangha. Each of these three entities is essential to the novitiate. Even if you take refuge as a layperson, you make a promise to honor and strive to obey the 5 precepts. Put simply, they are:

No killing

No stealing

No sexual misconduct

No lying

No intoxicants

These vows can be understood very strictly (no killing means vegetarian diet) or more openly, as intentions or goals. But there is an expectation that they will be recited with others at least once every three months. I failed to keep that promise and the others in so many ways that by the end of one year I could no longer claim to be a Buddhist. Nonetheless, Buddhist practice, study, and meditation are precious to me, and are the spiritual practice to which I return.

Buddhism is less a religion than a psychology. I find it compatible with Unitarian Universalism, and in fact, a much-needed complement, because our faith does not offer an easily accessible spiritual practice to support our individual and collective enterprise.

I also love the five precepts! Even though I fail at them constantly, I find the expression of them, especially as interpreted by Manzanita Village CLICK HERE inspiring and worthy of my striving. I say this to tell you that you don’t have to be “a Buddhist” to benefit from the forms and practices.

This Sunday, I will speak about the idea of community: the sangha, and the five hindrances to mindfulness. I invite you to think about the many communities you are a part of, from bowling leagues to storytellers, and what if any “precepts” or guidelines, written or unwritten, that pertain.

See you Sunday,

Cynthia

Helene Young, at 101, visiting our UU Congregation in 2016. She is the sister of Peace Pilgrim, who walked all over the United States to promote peace and harmony.

First, many thanks to those of you who attended our virtual service this Sunday. I hope you enjoyed meeting Michele and hearing about her creative process. She sent me a note later saying: “What a lovely service and group.
Thank you for making me a part of that. Sweet dialogue in the breakout room.
Take care and much love,
Michele”

What I love about GNUUC is that I feel confident that you would welcome and appreciate our guests. Your openness to new and different ideas is impressive. Although it may seem like a no-brainer that we UUs would be curious and affirming, we are also opinionated, and outspoken. I am so grateful to have been working with you, and I feel a sense of grief and loss that it has been nearly a year since we’ve been together, shared a meal, exchanged hugs and greetings, laughed and listened to one another.

I don’t know about you, but I have felt unexpectedly sad since January. It’s true that the political situation has improved dramatically, yet at the same time, so much damage has been done to what we may have perceived as our democratic institutions that is is breathtaking to assess.

I’ll be talking with you in February about “Beloved Community”: how we can continue to persevere as a community within larger spheres of connection, and I welcome your input. I’m continuously astonished at the ways you’ve found to stay in touch with and support one another!

Meanwhile, I think a great deal about the eldest in our society. I was surprised to learn that more than one-third of COVID deaths have occurred in nursing homes and long-term care facilities. Along with the inequities and the racism that has been made manifest, a blatant disregard for our elders is now apparent.

I have always loved old people. Now that I’m becoming an old person, I understand that we may be diminished physically but that we are fully ourselves as long as we live. Even those who struggle with dementia are no less fully human.

Today we learned of the death of Sir Thomas Moore, the British man who at age 100 raised 45 million dollars for the Health service. He succumbed to the coronavirus, but he proved that you can make a difference in some way even at 100. It’s a feel-good story, but it matters. We don’t need to raise millions of dollars; just making a difference in one person’s life is worth celebrating.

I had the opportunity to meet a woman who was still living alone, riding her bicycle daily, and playing piano at age 101 when I served the UU Congregation of the South Jersey Shore. She also died this past week at age 105.

Helene Young was the sister of Peace Pilgrim, a woman who dedicated her life to walking across the country and advocating for peace. CLICK HERE to read more about her. Her sister died in 1981, but Helene worked to preserve her legacy for another forty years. Spending an afternoon with her was a precious opportunity, and made a difference in how I think of “old” age.

Helene attended our UU services from time to time, saying that if she did join a church it would be the UU Church, but she wasn’t one for organized religion.

One thing Michele and Caitriona remind us of in our Buddhist meditation is the presence of the ancestors. They are a part of us, in spirit as well as genetically. We call upon the ancestors for strength.

Today, we have living treasures among us, people who still remember WW2, people who lived long before cell phones, computers, and even television. Can you make contact with an elder, either in our church community or elsewhere, and listen to their stories? It usually takes just a question or two to get started. Let me know if you do!

Remembering,

Cynthia

Visiting Helene at home with Colby Tippins, a member of the UU Congregation of the South Jersey Shore, in 2016

I have been doing the same thing most of you have been doing this morning.

Watching… and sobbing. I know this Inauguration and change of power in our government does not alter many of the things that we as liberals still must stand against. Racism, capitalist greed, voter suppression, climate change, on & on.

But today feels like a breather.

Today we can celebrate the fact that humanity, decency, and integrity still exist.

I know liberals, and I know how cynical we can be. But just for this time, let’s allow the words of the beautiful, talented Amanda Gorman, a 22-year-old poet who like Biden (and me) overcame a speech impediment, as she both faces the harsh reality of what happened just 2 weeks ago and offers a glimmer of hope. CLICK HERE to listen again, or if you missed her amazing poem.

When I returned to ministry from semi-retirement, it was in no small part due to a feeling that there must be something I could do to give people hope, to provide a container for people to get through what was a more and more harrowing series of national events.

But whatever I thought I was doing, what happened was that you saved me. You helped me with your kindness, your warm welcome, your understanding and patience with me, even as we’ve faced this oxymoron called “virtual ministry.” You renewed my faith not just in human nature, but in liberal religion and in Unitarian Universalism.

I thank you, and I love you all.

Cynthia